Morgan, Please Save Me!
by petrovaperfection
Summary: It seems that all the bad guys come after Penelope. When the team finds out yet another UnSub is targeting P, the team is fazed and doesn't know what to do. The UnSub becomes unpredictable and suddenly nothings the same. P is in trouble. Who can save her?
1. Chapter 1

**MORGAN, PLEASE SAVE ME**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the plot.

**A/N: This is the first Criminal Minds Fanfiction I have written. It is also the first fanfiction that isn't completely based solely on romance. So please, bear with me. If my facts aren't correct it's because I didn't always look them up I just used my common knowledge. **

_Chapter One: The Crime_

"Chelsea Porter she was twenty- three, found in her bed. She was stabbed eight times, then shot six times.' Prentiss described the latest case.

"Linda Holden she was twenty – five, also found in her bed, also stabbed eight times, and shot six times," Spencer Reid described a previous case.

"Three other girls ages twenty – nine and twenty were also found in similar conditions, though found in the living room rather than bedroom," Prentiss again informed.

"So similarities are obvious," Morgan began, "twenties, stabbed eight times, shot six, all found in their home."

"Garcia," Hotch said over speaker phone, "run the girls' names and see if you can find any connections between them."

"On it bossman."

"Similarities in this case aren't good enough," Hotch expanded, "We have to figure out the reason on why these similarities are recurring."

"Well," Reid informed, "Numbers often hold meaning to a person due to memories or encounters of childhood or a certain person."

"So what would these numbers exactly entitle?" Agent Seavers questioned.

"That's what we have to figure out, "Rossi answered. "Reid, what's the time frame between these killings?"

"Six days in between each," Reid spoke to Rossi.

"So we have at this rate, six days to solve this case."

"Hotch, these women were in no way related," Garcia informed, "Not a single thing, not the same city, no same friends or contacts, nothing with work or husbands. There's nothing. "

"Why don't you try linking these girls to the numbers eight and six. You know an address, a phone number, a birthdates. Something along those lines," Reid suggested.

"Of course." Garcia began typing.

"Do we have any type of profile on this guy at all?"

A man walked quickly into their meeting room, interrupting Rossi's question. "Hotch," The man spoke, "A letter…well five letters for you…or the BAU."

"Thank you."

Hotch slowly read all the letters as everyone else remained staring at the pictures. They wondered how someone could do this. But over the years they had figured out that any man was capable of horrible things. They really just wondered why this person was doing this. Were they delusional? Or maybe they were on drugs. Someone in their right mind couldn't possibly do something like this that was one thing they'd learned.

"A signature" Hotch spoke.

"You mean the stabbing and shooting?" Morgan questioned. Usually signatures dealt with rituals…not just shooting or stabbing.

"No. These letters. All from this person." He had a difficult time calling this UnSub a person.

"Well read them." Prentiss pried.

"Garcia get these words into your computer, see if there is a quote or something…anything."  
>"Absolutely."<p>

Hotch began, "What starts with a 'P' and has eight letters. Then starts with a 'G' and has six letters. Can you solve me this riddle?"

"Garcia I need you to search extensively on this. This riddle is our why to the crime that we need. Without this, we might not be able to solve this."

Everyone thought intently on this for a matter of what seemed like hours. They tried piecing it all together, linking it to these girls. It clearly had nothing to do with their names, but maybe the next victim. The next person this person would kill, or perhaps the person they want to kill but know they can't.

Morgan's fist hit the table soundly. "Baby Girl, I hate to tell you this, but Penelope Garcia fits with the riddle."

"You mean he's…" Garcia trailed off.

"I don't know, Baby Girl it was just a thought." He instantly wished he hadn't said it. She was going to be worrying like crazy now until we found this guy, and that almost always brought the worst out in her when it came to computers and work.

"Wait, wait, wait," Reid said not dismissing what Morgan just suggested, "Look at all three of these girls, who do they remind you of?"

"Garcia," Prentiss began, "In the past….They all have hairdos and style like Garcia."

"No, this isn't happening….again…." Garcia said under her breath. She was about to start hyperventilating.

She'd already gotten shot once because of her job, now someone else wanted to kill her?

The thing Garcia always had a hard time coming to grips about on these kinds of cases was that all these women were being killed because he or she wanted to kill her. She could barley handle the deaths of the people of 'normal' cases as is. What, now she has to handle deaths that were caused by her?

It wasn't fair.

This kind of thing never happened to Prentiss or Seaver or Morgan, not that she would wish it upon any of her teammates but why her?

Then it hit her.

She was typing vigorously. "I got it," She said after a minute or so of typing. She'd never been more excited about someone coming to kill her before.

"What are you on, Baby Girl?" Derek was clearly not happy with her enthusiasm on the subject.

Some one was coming after his Baby Girl and she was happy?

"Only you my Chocolate God," She teased. "But really. All these girls grew up in Minnesota like me; they have a style like me. All of these girls are incapable of fighting back, untrained, weak, like me. This UnSub must be a man a women wouldn't be able to hold me down, no matter how untrained I am."

"Te fact that there's six days between every murder could possibly mean that number also means something or that he has a six day grieving period, or possibly that before he kills these women, that he stalks them." Reid explained.

"If he were grieving he wouldn't just leave the bodies there though," Prentiss said, "He would bury then or something symbolic."

"So he's either stalking or he has some other freakish relation to the number six," Garcia said, once again beginning to freak out.

"Morgan, I want you and Prentiss to go home with Garcia until we find this guy."

"No Hotch, I don't need body guards. If they get hurt then it just adds to the numbers of people who are hurting because of me."

"Nuh-uh Baby Girl. None of this is your fault. All these women were killed in their homes; I want Penelope to come home with me, "he turned to Hotch.

"Okay, Prentiss and Garcia can go home with Morgan. Reid and I will go look at Chelsea's and Linda's house. Seaver and Prentiss go to the other three houses. Morgan you stay with Garcia and help her track this guy down."

"Got it," the team said in unison.

Everyone got up and departed, Prentiss and Seaver grabbing guns and vests. Reid grabbing his smart boy briefcase. Morgan left to go see Garcia.

As Morgan entered the hall he saw Lynch typing and swerving in his chair, and multiple others doing the same.

He reached the middle of the hall and on the left read, 'Penelope Garcia, Technical Analysis.' Morgan knocked lightly then walked in. He took a chair that was in the corner of the room and sat next to Penelope.

"You holding up?" He asked.

She turned around, "Don't you think by now I should be used to the idea of people coming after me?"

"No one ,Baby Girl, not even me will ever get used to that idea. I don't know why you're so nervous you have me to protect you anyway," he laughed lightly.

"I know, but you know, best of all people, how freaked out I get when bad things happen to the team."

"Baby girl you have nothing to worry about, I am not leaving your side. Ever."


	2. Chapter 2

**MORGAN, PLEASE SAVE ME**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the plot.

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews guys! Keep 'em coming. If there's something you think would go GREAT with this plot please feel free to tell me. Or if there's an obvious mistake I made tell me about that too. Because apparently Penelope grew up in California. I had no idea where she grew up so I totally just picked a random state, but thanks anonymous person who told me that Just incase you guys didn't know, which you didn't. I haven't been watching Criminal Minds much so I don't know a whole load about it, I just know what I've seen so far. So again, if you know something I don't , tell me. Thanks! Hope you enjoy!**

_Chapter Two:_

He was getting angrier by the second. It had been a couple of hours, and not only was this man trying to kill his woman, but he apparently knew how well Garcia was with computers too. No matter how hard she back hacked, she couldn't get a thing on this man. All Derek wanted to do was find this man and personally stab him eight times and shoot him _twelve_, just so he would know that you don't ever, _ever _mess with him _or_ his Baby Girl.

He couldn't keep from clenching his fists. He heard Penelope grunt, once again hitting a dead end.

"I give up!" She threw her arms in the air, pushed herself back and spun to see Morgan. "Hey, Hot Stuff," she teased, "you look a tad bit uptight." She laughed, smiling up at him.

His fists released a bit, and he looked up at her, being calmed by her soft laughter. "I can't stand not being able to kill this guy with my very own hands."

"My little Caterpillar," She smiled sweetly. Garcia grabbed his hands, wrapping her fingers around his. "You are my hero and I love you, but you must calm down. You wanting to kill this person isn't helping any."

"I know, but…"

"No buts. Calm down. I'm here and I'm safe, so you can calm down. I'm not going to get hurt because I have my Chocolate God watching over me." She smiled.

Usually Morgan was the one calming her. She loved it when the tables turned. It was one of the few times she saw Derek's imperfect stage. Sometimes she thought she was the only one to see it.

"I can't even figure out what race this guy is," She turned back to the case.

She swerved back to her computers, pulling Derek with her.

"You know what you could do?" Morgan suggested, "Look up statistics about aggression in crimes. You know, men are usually more violent then women."

She typed away with one hand as the other unconsciously held Morgan's. A minutes later she began, "I think if we want to go off this we're looking at a Male African American or male Mexican. But, this, Hot Stuff won't help me unless I have a name or address or something to go off of.

At that moment Morgan's cell phone rang, keeping him from replying.

"Hello?"

Hotch was on the other end telling him something about the case. As Garcia strained to listen, her fingers began tapping on Morgan's knee. She hoped that he would have new for her, something for her to go off of…anything. She needed something.

"Okay I'll tell her." Morgan ended the call.

"What? What?"

"He took a photo of the girl and you can see him in the photo."

"For a person with such great tech skills, that was a stupid, stupid mistake."

"I know," Morgan laughed, "He's definitely an African American, Hotch says that in the mean time we…well you need to try and figure out if you can match his handwriting in the letters to some sort of journal or something."

Garcia mentally slapped herself in the face, "How could I have not thought of that earlier?"

"You were busy," Morgan suggested.

Penelope got to work scanning all five of the letters. She kept thinking of telling Morgan to leave and help Seavers and Prentiss, but she knew that he wouldn't leave due to stubbornness and over protection.

She hit a couple of dead ends before she turned to the silent Derek Morgan, next to her, "You're a profiler."

"That's correct," he chuckled, "took you a while to figure that out."

"Do you think this UnSub would be a writer or something?"

"To be honest, we don't have much on this guy, but sadly serious professions such as writing and counseling give way to creeps like him. So, yes, it's possible."

"I don't think this guy is stupid enough to put his own handwriting in the let-"She stopped in her tracks typing quickly again.

As Penelope typed, Morgan looked at her, a small smile gracing his face. She was so brilliant; he wondered how she did it. Even under all the pressure she still managed to stay calm and collected and most of all beautiful.

"I was right," She interrupted Derek's thoughts; "It's not his writing. How in the world could Hotch miss the fact that all these letters are in different hand writing?"

Derek Looked at the letters, surprised, "We all missed it, cupcake."

"Hot Stuff, our team needs to get our act together, we have women to save."

Derek laughed and let her know that she'd tell them the 'Goddess' wish.'

"All the letters are written by the victims," Derek informed Hotch.

"So another dead end?"

"Yes, but I think my Baby Girl is cross referencing all five girls to the African Americans who work in professional fields."

"Call me with the answers."

"Got it," Derek hung up his phone.

Garcia lightly tapped on Derek's leg as she maneuvered different things around her computer.

"What time is it, Hot Stuff?" She questioned not looking up from her computer.

"11:30."

"This search is kind of broad, you figure we can go grab lunch together," she turned smiling and looking into his eyes.

"Anything for you, my sexy Goddess."

Derek phoned the team to let them know where they were headed, just in case.

"So where to?" Penelope asked.

Derek thought as they shuffled out of the BAU. They got into his SUV and he began driving.

"So, where to?" She asked again.

"Patience, my young Penelope."

She rolled her eyes, "You know you're ridiculous sometimes," She giggled lightly at Derek.

"Oh, please, don't act like you don't love it, Baby Girl."

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Silence was never a bad thing with Morgan and Garcia.

She wondered where they were going. But she soon realized that it didn't matter. As long as she was with Derek she knew she was safe _and_ happy.

"You know," She said, "You'll have to take me home to get my go bags before I can go to your house."

"You wanna just get them after lunch?" Derek asked looking away from the road for a couple of seconds to look at her.

"Whatever works best for you."

The car went quiet again.

Penelope began going over details of their case. She thought about the picture of the man that Hotch had sent them a while back. The photo wasn't very helpful other than the fact that the man was African American. She thought more deeply about the photo. She remembered the man being extremely toned, like Morgan toned. She thought he must go to a gym. His kind of muscle wasn't made by jogging twice a day. However, that didn't help much. The women were untrained, definitely not going to a gym any time soon.

She remembered that this was a photo though, not the digital copy she'd gotten. She smiled realizing that perhaps this guy had left a finger print on the photo.

"What are you thinking about Baby Girl?" Derek interrupted her thoughts.

P had been so deep in thought that she hadn't even realized that she was being stared at.

"Oh uh just a guy." She stumbled over her words, still partially consumed by her thoughts. Maybe the more she thought about the case, the more she'd figure out.

"Does Penelope have a crush?" Derek teased, his voice however became tense.

Penelope shook her head, "Someone's a little overprotective."

"Always." Derek lightly laughed squeezing her knee affectionately.

"But, no. I was just thinking of the UnSub."

Derek's face changed once again. This time he went from teasing and overprotective to angry and confused.

"Why," He gritted his teeth, "He doesn't deserve your any more thought out of your pretty little head than necessary to catch him." He tapped the tip of her nose softly.

"Why are you so worried about me?" She asked curiously.

He pulled the car into a parking spot and she realized she was at their favorite restaurant, Texas Road house. She smiled knowing he'd come here purely because he knew she loved it.

As she got out of the car, he walked next to her, grabbing her hand.

"How could I not be?" He asked genuinely worried, "My Baby Girl is in danger and I have no idea who's trying to ruin our lives."

"Our?" She asked as the waiter sat them down and asked them what drinks they wanted.

"Water for me, a raspberry ice tea for her," Derek said instinctively, "Well," He said returning to the earlier subject, "Do you really believe that if you were hurt that I'd be okay?"

She thought a moment, "Well I mean I know you'd be upset, but there are plenty of people just like me that could take my place."

"Okay one no one will ever, _ever _take my Baby Girl's place, and tow you tell me how you'd feel if something happened to me."

"Well I'd want to die."

"The feelings mutual."


	3. Chapter 3

**MORGAN, PLEASE SAVE ME**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the plot.

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait! I've been doing finals and stuff, so I've been busy! Thanks so much for all the reviews! It's summer now, so I should update faster! I already have chapters 4 and 5 written so I just have to type them up! Enjoy!**

_Chapter 3_

The words rang in her ears, like a bell. They echoed loudly, bouncing off the sides of her head. She had no idea at all that Derek felt that way about her. Sure, they were best friends, but she didn't even know what that meant, sometimes. All the times Derek told her he'd do anything for her. And she always told him he was her hero, and she'd meant every word she said, but more often than not, she wondered whether or not the things he said were true. Was she really his God given Solace? She had no doubt she was his 'Baby Girl' but she didn't know what that meant, either.

Flirting with Derek was just so much easier than being serious with him, but what kind of a best friend couldn't be serious? She could be serious though, and he could be to, just not with their feelings, unless it involved some blonde bimbo.

Derek knew more about her than her mom would've ever known about her. He definitely knew more than Kevin ever had, even in the two years they dated. Yet she still had issues believing, even now, that Derek was really that serious about her life.

"I don't believe that," Garcia finally said.

The words didn't shock Derek, he knew they were coming. They always came when he said something like that. No matter what he said to his Baby Girl, she never did very well in the "believing it" area.

"How much must I beat it into your pretty little head," Derek sighed frustrated, "How can you not believe it by now?"

"You are a God, literally. You are sculpted better than any Greek sculpture."

Derek rolled his eyes; he'd heard it before- always from her.

"You get every girl you want into your bed."

"Hey, hey, hey Baby-"

"No, it's true," She interrupted," You have everything, and if by some rare chance you don't have something, you could get it in the blink of an eye. Now you tell me how someone so perfect can even want to talk to someone, me, so _im_perfect."

By this point in time Morgan and Garcia were back at her house getting her go bags. She was walking quickly around getting thing after thing. He chuckled; you'd think she was going to Hawaii for the month. She came out of her bedroom stuffing something into her bag when Morgan stopped her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her into her bathroom. He turned P towards the mirror and pointed.

"Tell me what you see." His voice came soft.

She sighed. This was the one question she hated answering. Tears were already building up, but she began anyway. "I see a chubby, overweight, geek who has nothing better to do thank sit at a computer all day. With a stupid style that looks horrible with bright red hair, which makes her look like a fire truck. Whose nose is too big, and whose breasts jiggle when she walks. I see someone who has no life and not many friends. A girl who comes home on weekends and curls up on the couch and eats to drown her sorrow. I see someone who's unhealthy." Her list seemed to go on and on. Every time Morgan asked her this questions he hoped the list would get smaller, but it didn't. It only grew bigger and bigger, she added things he would never have never thought of in a million years, but yet she saw a feature that made her cry. So that's what she did, she cried and cried, as she kept listing her imperfections. Soon he pulled her into a hug just holding her. She kept going, and he wasn't going to stop her. She needed to get it out. When she was done he would tell her what he saw. Perfection. Beauty. Poise and class. So many more things than she could list on her list of imperfections.

Garcia got to the point when she stopped talking, she was done, however she kept crying. She just hugged Morgan, and cried.

After about twenty minutes he finally stopped her. He pulled her away, gripped her face and whipped her tears.

He looked into her eyes and began speaking to her, "Now you listen here and you listen closely. I never want to hear you say those words ever again. I am in no way okay with my Baby Girl talking herself down like this." Derek's phone began ringing, but he ignored it. "You are perfect in every way," he began again, "You are the most beautiful person I've ever known, inside and most definitely outside. Girl you look hella fine and you don't even realize it. Curves are sexy, Baby Girl, not ugly."

Penelope's phone began ringing. She figured it was Hotch, so she picked it up.

"Hello?"

She waited, looking up at Derek, "Yes, sir, yes," she stuttered, "He's right here, sir." She handed Derek the phone.

"Hello?" He waited, "Now…I'm kinda in the middle of…okay we're on our way." He hung up the phone and handed it back to P.

"We will continue this at my house tonight, you are not escaping my wrath. Now go grab your bags, you sexy Goddess, and get in the car. We gotta go back."

She obeyed as Morgan followed her.

When they got back they saw the whole team crowded around Reid's desk looking at something.

The team looked up as they entered. "Look at this," Hotch called them over.

It was a TV. The new was on, they were reporting on the recent deaths. "We got a call on our tips line from a man," the reporter began, "He says he knows the guy who's doing this, and also knows that after his sixth kill, which took place two hours ago, he plans on killing FBI technical analysis Penelope Garcia."

Hotch turned the TV off, and turned to Penelope, "Six days, that's how long he's been waiting. It hasn't even been a day since his last kill."

"He's being agitated," Morgan commented.

"Wouldn't us taking on this case be exactly what he wanted?" Rossi questioned. "We're chasing him. Wouldn't we be playing right into his hands? What would force him to kill early?"

"Maybe he's worried we'll figure him out," Prentiss suggested.

"No, no, no," Morgan began waving his hands, "A killer so vicious in his plot and weapon choice wouldn't be scared of us, if anything he'd thrive at the idea of trying to kill not only P, but all of us."

"Do you think the new station would have traced the calls?" Garcia wondered.

"It's possible, but unlikely." Reid began, "Tips hotlines are usually anonymous so that the person can give information without being questioned or put in danger."

"You guys, whatever is ticking this guy off needs to be stopped," Hotch said, "We now have no idea how long we have till he tries to kill Penelope, Morgan you don't even think of leaving her side," he pointed at Penelope. "If she wants to go to the bathroom you go with her, but NOT in the stall." He said as he saw Derek wiggle his eyebrow at P, "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"We need to find something out to get this guy. Reid do you have a possible area of where this guy could be?"

"Yes," Reid said excitedly. He pulled ut a map from his bottom left drawer. He walked the team into the room.

Hotch ordered Prentiss and Seaver to go to the news station and find any detail possible on the call.

Reid hung his map on the white board. "Considering the now six locations of deaths, I presume that this man would live around this area, "he pointed at a red circle. "It doesn't narrow down much, but it's something."

"Garcia is your search from earlier finished?" Hotch questioned.

"I-I don't know," She answered, "I haven't been back to my office yet."

"When you get back, cross reference that search with people who live in this area. Then cross reference that with crime databases."

"Any certain crime?" She questioned.

"Do a general search, and then look up rapes or crimes having to do with women."

"Wait," Morgan interrupted, "Rape?"

"He raped his latest victim," Rossi explained, "We need to look at the crime scene. He's changed so much this last murder, it's extremely probable that he could have made a mistake of some sort."

"Rossi, you and Reid can go do that now, Garcia and Morgan go do those searches," Hotch ordered.

"On it," Garcia said, "but sir," she remembered, "You should check your photograph for fingerprints. If you find any I can cross reference my final search with the prints."

"Good thinking, Garcia, I'm on it."

Penelope smiled and nodded as she exited.

She walked down the hall with Morgan beside her. She heaved a large sigh.

"You okay, Baby Girl?"

"Just tired, I can't wait for this to be over." She just felt like sitting down and curling up in Morgan's big strong arms, which would comfort her, and take all her worry away.

He put his hand around her shoulder, "Baby, we all want it to be over."

"It hasn't even been one day though."

They came to Garcia's office. She sat at her chair, as Morgan sat, in his.

"You just gotta push through it, sweetness. If you make it through the rest of the day," he teased, "And you're a good girl, I'll give you a massage when we get home."

She perked up at the sound of a massage given by Morgan, "But, you know how bad I can be, Hot Stuff," She winked.

He smiled at her, longing to take all her pain and suffering away, and not just for today, for forever. He looked at his Baby Girl. She was the one thing that mattered in his life, if something happened to her, he didn't know what he would do. She was his best friend, his God given Solace, his Baby Girl. Without her, he'd be lost.

"You'll make it," he told her.

She smiled, and then turned to her computer. The search was complete. The search being so broad, she came up with a total of 576 results, she began cross referencing those results to Reid's radius of residents. She smiled feeling that she might be getting somewhere.

The results turned up, the never had diminished to a mere 212. She then began cross referencing those men to crimes in general.

She swerved to a different computer, pulling up iTunes. As all was silent in the office, she began playing soft classical music.

"Is that allowed?" Morgan asked.

She shrugged, "What are they going to do, fire me?" She scoffed, "You know I'm not cocky, but you also know good and well that I am better than any other tech analysis in the BAU, besides it helps me relax and work better," She referred to the music.

She turned back to her search, now dwindling in the love 100's. So many criminals, she thought. She cross referenced it with criminal raps and sex offenders.

Garcia began looking at the women's life again. This time their daily schedules, she looked at when they went in routine.

"You know what's strange?" She spoke to Morgan, "These women practically mirror me on the outside except one thing, they all have husbands. I don't have a husband."

She pulled up the pictures of the six girls husbands.

"Odd."

"What?" Morgan questioned.

"All six of these women are married to African Americans."

At that moment someone knocked on Penelope's door. The women walked in and handed P a letter, and then walked out.

Penelope opened the letter.

_You_ _know someone who looks a lot like me Just look around, Baby Girl_

She gasped. Penelope darted out of her door, with a confused Morgan trailing behind. She didn't even have to "look around" to know who that was referring to.

On her way to look for Hotch she ended up running right into him.

"Hotch, you have to read this, I just got it."

Hotch took the letter from her and began reading.

"You wanna know something strange, I was digging in the girls' lives again, and I found that they were all married. Odd, huh? I'm not married. So, I dug a little deeper, guess what I found. All six husbands look a lot like our friends, Morgan here," She patted Morgan on the chest, "Just like our UnSub."

"What does that mean?" Hotch asked.

"Wait. Stop right there," Morgan said, "What does the letter even say?"

"If says that the UnSub looks a lot like you."

"What so I'm the UnSub now?"

"No, no, not at all."

"Then what?"

"You're the profiler," Garcia said, "You need to figure it out. What does our UnSub, husbands, and you have in common other than race?"

Reid and Rossi burst through the doors.

"Garcia, you go back and finish your searches,, we'll talk in a bit."

She nodded then walked away.

She returned to her chair. The previous and final search was completed. The final result came out to be 36 men who fit the profile.

Until she could do something with that search she resorted to digging in their lives again.

"Every Monday Chelsea went to the counselor. The same counseling office that Linda went to…"She trialed off as she typed, "and Haley…and oh my gosh, Morgan they all went to the same counselors office, different counselors and for different reasons, but they all went."

"Are you cross referencing…"

"Employees with my criminals?" She questioned, "You betcha, Hot Stuff."

She smiled as she tapped to the music that still played. This could be it, she could have figured it out. The search completed and came up with two results.

"Two!" She said excited.

She called Hotch, ready to solve the case, but Hotch informed her of a meeting they'd be having in ten minutes. She said okay and told Morgan. They walked calmly down the hall, and into the meeting room where all the team had assembled.

They sat and waited for Hotch to get started.

"We have a finger print,' He informed, "They're all over the latest crime scene. Garcia, tell me you have someone to run them too."

"I do," She smiled happily, "Two people to be precise."

"You got all the way down to two people? How?" Prentiss asked astonished.

"Well if you must know," She smiled deviously, "I finished with all the searches Hotch asked me to do, and up surfaces 36 criminals. Of course, that's not good enough. I started snooping. I figured out all these women went to the same counselors office, different counselors, for different reasons, but none the less the same office. So I ran their employee list with all my recently found criminals. What do you know, up pop two men?"

"Good work Garcia, go back and check the fingerprint I'm sending you. See if one of the guys is a match." He tapped something into his Tablet and then sent Garcia away.

She retrieved the fingerprint through her database and typed away codes that Derek would never understand.

"Can I still come home with you if we catch this guy?" Garcia asked.

"You are always welcome at my home, Baby Girl."

"Good, I really want that massage," She winked.

"Are you being bad? That's breaking our rules," Derek scoffed.

"I'm always bad, Baby Boy."

She laughed as she took his hand, "I hope this works."

"Me too, Baby Girl, me too."


End file.
